Thesmellofrainwasintheair。Thecarraisednodust,butboredswiftlyon,searchingouttheroadwithitslamps。OnPutneyBridgeitsmarchwasstayedbyastringofwaggons。LordValleyslookedtorightandleft。Theriverreflectedthethousandlightsofbuildingspiledalonghersides,lampsoftheembankments,lanternsofmooredbarges。ThesinuouspallidbodyofthisgreatCreature,foreverglidingdowntothesea,rousedinhismindnosymbolicimage。Hehadhadtodowithher,yearsback,attheBoardofTrade,andknewherforwhatshewas,extremelydirty,andgettingabominablythinjustwherehewouldhavelikedherplump。Yet,ashelightedacigar,therecametohimaqueerfeeling——asifhewereinthepresenceofawomanhewasfondof。
"IhopetoGod,"hethought,"nothing'ilcomeofthesescares！"Thecarglidedonintothelongroad,swarmingwithtraffic,towardsthefashionableheartofLondon。Outsidestationers'shops,however,thepostersofeveningpaperswereofnoreassuringorder。
'THEPLOTTHICKENS。'
'MOREREVELATIONS。'
'GRAVESITUATIONTHREATENED。'
Andbeforeeachpostercouldbeseenalittleeddyinthestreamofthepassers—by——formedbypersonsglancingatthenews,anddisengagingthemselves,topressonagain。TheEarlofValleyscaughthimselfwonderingwhattheythoughtofit！Whatwaspassingbehindthosepaleroundsoffleshturnedtowardstheposters？
Didtheythinkatall,thesemenandwomeninthestreet？Whatwastheirattitudetowardsthisvaguelythreatenedcataclysm？Faceafterface,stolidandapathetic,expressednothing,noactivedesire,certainlynoenthusiasm,hardlyanydread。Poordevils！Thething,afterall,wasnomorewithintheircontrolthanitwaswithinthepowerofantstostoptheruinationoftheirant—heapbysomepassingboy！Itwasnodoubtquitetrue,thatthepeoplehadneverhadmuchvoiceinthemakingofwar。AndthewordsofaRadicalweekly,whichasanimpartialmanhealwaysforcedhimselftoread,recurredtohim。"Ignorantofthefacts,hypnotizedbythewords'Country'and'Patriotism';inthegripofmob—instinctandinbornprejudiceagainsttheforeigner;helplessbyreasonofhispatience,stoicism,goodfaith,andconfidenceinthoseabovehim;helplessbyreasonofhissnobbery,mutualdistrust,carelessnessforthemorrow,andlackofpublicspirit—inthefaceofWarhowimpotentandtobepitiedisthemaninthestreet！"Thatpaper,thoughclever,alwaysseemedtohimintolerablyhifalutin'！
ItwasdoubtfulwhetherhewouldgettoAscotthisyear。Andhismindflewforamomenttohispromisingtwo—year—oldCasetta;thendashedalmostviolently,asthoughinshame,totheAdmiraltyandthedoubtwhethertheywerefullyalivetopossibilities。HehimselfoccupiedasofterspotofGovernment,oneofthosealmostnominalofficesnecessarytoqualifyintotheCabinetcertaintriedminds,forwhomnomorestrenuouspostcanforthemomentbefound。FromtheAdmiraltyagainhisthoughtsleapedtohismother—in—law。
Wonderfuloldwoman！Whatastatesmanshewouldhavemade！Tooreactionary！DeuceofastraightlineshehadtakenaboutMrs。LeesNoel！Andwithaconnoisseur'stwingeofpleasureherecollectedthatlady'sfaceandfigureseenthatmorningashepassedhercottage。Mysteriousornot,thewomanwascertainlyattractive！
Verygracefulheadwithitsdarkhairwavedbackfromthemiddleovereithertemple——verycharmingfigure,nolumberofanysort！Bouquetabouther！Somestoryorother,nodoubt——noaffairofhis！Alwayssorryforthatsortofwoman！
AregimentofTerritorialsreturningfromamarchstayedtheprogressofhiscar。Heleanedforwardwatchingthemwithmuchthesamecontained,shrewd,criticallookhewouldhavebentonapackofhounds。Allthemistinessandspeculationinhismindwasgonenow。
Goodstampofman,wouldgiveacapitalaccountofthemselves！Theirfaces,flushedbyadayintheopen,weremaskedwithpassivity,or,withahalf—aggressive,half—jocularself—consciousness;theywereclearlynottroubledbyabstractdoubts,oranyvisionsofthehorrorsofwar。
Someoneraisedacheer'fortheTerriers！'LordValleyssawroundhimalittleseaofhats,risingandfalling,andheardasound,rathershrillandtentative,swellintohoarse,highclamour,andsuddenlydieout。"Seemkeenenough！"hethought。"Verylittledoesit！
Plentyoffightingspiritinthecountry。"Andagainathrillofpleasureshotthroughhim。
Then,asthelastsoldierpassed,hiscarslowlyforgeditswaythroughthestragglingcrowd,pressingonbehindtheregiment——menofallages,youths,afewwomen,younggirls,whoturnedtheireyesonhimwithanegligentstareasiftheirlivesweretooremotetopermitthemtotakeinterestinthispassingmanatease。
CHAPTERIV
AtMonkland,thatsamehour,inthelittlewhitewashed'withdrawing—
room'ofathatched,whitewashedcottage,twomensattalking,oneoneithersideofthehearth;andinalowchairbetweenthemadark—
eyedwomanleanedback,watching,thetipsofherdelicatethinfingerspressedtogether,orheldouttransparenttowardsthefire。
Alog,droppingnowandthen,turnedupitsglowingunderside;andthefirelightandthelamplightseemedsotohavesoakedintothewhitewallsthatawanwarmthexuded。Silverydunmoths,flutteringinfromthedarkgarden,keptvibrating,likespunshillings,overajade—greenbowlofcrimsonroses;andtherewasascent,aseverinthatoldthatchedcottage,ofwoodsmoke,flowers,andsweetbriar。
Themanontheleftwasperhapsforty,ratherabovemiddleheight,vigorous,active,straight,withblueeyesandasanguinefacethatglowedonsmallprovocation。Hishairwasverybright,almostred,andhisfierymoustacheswhichdescendedtothelevelofhischin,likeDonQuixote'sseemedbristlingandcharging。
Themanontherightwasnearerthirty,evidentlytall,wiry,andverythin。Hesatrathercrumpled,inhislowarmchair,withhandsclaspedroundaknee;andalittlecrucifiedsmilehauntedthelipsofhisleanface,which,withitsparchmenty,tanned,shavencheeks,anddeep—set,verylivingeyes,hadacertainbeauty。
Thesetwomen,soextravagantlyunlike,lookedateachotherlikeneighbouringdogs,who,havinglongdecidedthattheyarebetterapart,suddenlyfindthattheyhavemetatsomespotwheretheycannotpossiblyhaveafight。Andthewomanwatched;theowner,asitwere,ofone,butwho,fromsheerloveofdogs,hadalwaysstrokedandpattedtheother。
"So,Mr。Courtier,"saidtheyoungerman,whosedry,ironicvoice,likehissmile,seemeddefendingthefervidspiritinhiseyes;"allyousayonlyamounts,yousee,toadefenceoftheso—calledLiberalspirit;and,forgivemycandour,thatspirit,beinganimportationfromtherealmsofphilosophyandart,withersthemomentittouchespracticalaffairs。
Themanwiththeredmoustacheslaughed;thesoundwasqueer——atoncesogenialandsosardonic。
"Wellput！"hesaid:"Andfarbeitfrommetogainsay。Butsincecompromiseistheveryessenceofpolitics,high—priestsofcasteandauthority,likeyou,LordMiltoun,areeverybitasmuchoutofitasanyLiberalprofessor。"
"Idon'tagree！"
"Agreeornot,yourpositiontowardspublicaffairsisveryliketheChurch'sattitudetowardsmarriageanddivorce;asremotefromtherealitiesoflifeastheattitudeofthebelieverinFreeLove,andnotmorelikelytocatchon。Thedeathofyourpointofviewliesinitself——it'stoodried—upandfarfromthingsevertounderstandthem。Ifyoudon'tunderstandyoucanneverrule。Youmightjustaswellkeepyourhandsinyourpockets,asgointopoliticswithyournotions！"
"Ifearwemustcontinuetoagreetodiffer。"
"Well;perhapsIdopayyoutoohighacompliment。Afterall,youareapatrician。"
"Youspeakinriddles,Mr。Courtier。"
Thedark—eyedwomanstirred;herhandsgaveasortofflutter,asthoughindeprecationofacerbity。
Risingatonce,andspeakinginadeferentialvoice,theeldermansaid"We'retiringMrs。Noel。Good—night,Audrey,It'shightimeIwasoff。"AgainstthedarknessoftheopenFrenchwindow,heturnedroundtofireapartingshot。
"WhatImeant,LordMiltoun,wasthatyourclassisthedriestandmostpracticalintheState——it'soddifitdoesn'tsaveyoufromapoet'sdreams。Good—night！"Hepassedoutontothelawn,andvanished。
Theyoungmansatunmoving;theglowofthefirehadcaughthisface,sothataspiritseemedclingingroundhislips,gleamingoutofhiseyes。Suddenlyhesaid:
"Doyoubelievethat,Mrs。Noel？"
ForanswerAudreyNoelsmiled,thenroseandwentovertothewindow。
"Lookatmydeartoad！Itcomeshereeveryevening！"
Onaflagstoneoftheverandah,inthecentreofthestreamoflamplight,satalittlegoldentoad。AsMiltouncametolook,itwaddledtooneside,andvanished。
"Howpeacefulyourgardenis！"hesaid;thentakingherhand,heverygentlyraisedittohislips,andfollowedhisopponentoutintothedarkness。
Trulypeacebroodedoverthatgarden。TheNightseemedlistening——
alllightsout,allheartsatrest。Itwatched,withalittlewhitestarforeverytree,androof,andslumberingtiredflower,asamotherwatcheshersleepingchild,leaningabovehimandcountingwithherloveeveryhairofhishead,andallhistinytremors。
Argumentseemedchild'sbabbleindeedunderthesmileofNight。Andthefaceofthewoman,leftaloneatherwindow,wasalittlelikethefaceofthiswarm,sweetnight。Itwassensitive,harmonious;
anditsharmonywasnot,asinsomefaces,cold——butseemedtotrembleandglowandflutter,asthoughitwereaspiritwhichhadfounditsplaceofresting。
Inhergarden,——allvelvetygrey,withblackshadowsbeneaththeyew—
trees,thewhiteflowersaloneseemedtobeawake,andtolookatherwistfully。Thetreesstooddarkandstill。Noteventhenightbirdsstirred。Alone,thelittlestreamdowninthebottomraiseditsvoice,privilegedwhendayvoiceswerehushed。
ItwasnotinAudreyNoeltodenyherselftoanyspiritthatwasabroad;torepelwasanartshedidnotpractise。Butthisnight,thoughtheSpiritofPeacehoveredsonear,shedidnotseemtoknowit。Herhandstrembled,hercheekswereburning;herbreastheaved,andsighsflutteredfromherlips,justparted。
CHAPTERV
EustaceCardoc,ViscountMiltoun,hadlivedaverylonelylife,sincehefirstbegantounderstandthepeculiaritiesofexistence。WiththeexceptionofClifton,hisgrandmother's'majordomo,'hemade,asasmallchild,nointimatefriend。Hisnurses,governesses,tutors,bytheirownconfessiondidnotunderstandhim,findingthathetookhimselfwithunnecessaryseriousness;alittleafraid,too,ofonewhomtheydiscoveredtobecapableofpushingthingstothepointofenduringpaininsilence。MuchofthatearlytimewaspassedatRavensham,forhehadalwaysbeenLadyCasterley'sfavouritegrandchild。Sherecognizedinhimthepurposefulausteritywhichhadsomehowbeenomittedfromthecompositionofherdaughter。ButonlytoClifton,thenamanoffiftywithagreatgravityandlongblackwhiskers,didEustacerelievehissoul。"Itellyouthis,Clifton,"
hewouldsay,sittingonthesideboard,orthearmofthebigchairinClifton'sroom,orwanderingamongsttheraspberries,"becauseyouaremyfriend。"
AndClifton,withhisheadalittleononeside,andasortofwiseconcernathis'friend's'confidences,whichweresometimesofanembarrassingdescription,wouldanswernowandthen:"Ofcourse,mylord,"butmoreoften:"Ofcourse,mydear。"
Therewasinthisfriendshipsomethingfineandsuitable,neitherofthese'friends'takingorsufferingliberties,andbothbeinginterestedinpigeons,whichtheywouldstandwatchingwitharemarkableattention。
Incourseoftime,followingthetraditionofhisfamily,EustacewenttoHarrow。Hewastherefiveyears——alwaysoneofthoseboysalittleoutatwristsandankles,whomaybeseenslouching,solitary,alongthepavementtotheirownhaunts,ratherdusty,andwithoneshoulderslightlyraisedabovetheother,fromthehabitofcarryingsomethingbeneathonearm。Savedfrombeingthoughta'smug,'byhistitle,hislackofanyconspicuousscholasticability,hisobviousindependenceofwhatwasthoughtofhim,andasarcastictongue,whichnoonewaseagertoencounter,heremainedtheuglyducklingwhorefusedtopaddleproperlyinthegreenpondsofPublicSchooltradition。Heplayedgamessobadlythatinsheerself—defencehisfellowspermittedhimtoplaywithoutthem。Of'fives'theymadeanexception,forinthisheattainedmuchproficiency,owingtoacertainwindmill—likequalityoflimb。Hewasnotedtoofordaringchemicalexperiments,ofwhichheusuallyhadoneortwobrewing,surreptitiouslyatfirst,andafterwardsbyspecialpermissionofhishouse—master,ontheprinciplethatifaroommustsmell,ithadbettersmellopenly。Hemadefewfriendships,butthesewerelasting。
HisLatinwassopoor,andhisGreekversesovile,thatallhadbeensurprisedwhentowardsthefinishofhiscareerheshowedaveryconsiderablepowerofwritingandspeakinghisownlanguage。Heleftschoolwithoutapang。ButwheninthetrainhesawtheoldHillandtheoldspireonthetopofitfadingawayfromhim,alumproseinhisthroat,heswallowedviolentlytwoorthreetimes,and,thrustinghimselffarbackintothecarriagecorner,appearedtosleep。
AtOxford,hewashappier,butstillcomparativelylonely;remaining,solongascustompermitted,inlodgingsoutsidehisCollege,andclingingthereaftertoremote,panelledroomshighup,overlookingthegardensandaportionofthecitywall。ItwasatOxfordthathefirstdevelopedthatpassionforself—disciplinewhichafterwardsdistinguishedhim。Hetookuprowing;and,thoughthoroughlyunsuitedbynaturetothispastime,securedhimselfaplaceinhisCollege'torpid。'Attheendofaracehewasusuallysupportedfromhisstretcherinastateofextremeextenuation,duetohavingpulledthelastquarterofthecourseentirelywithhisspirit。Thesamecravingforself—disciplineguidedhiminthechoiceofSchools;hewentoutin'Greats,'forwhich,owingtohisindifferentmasteryofGreekandLatin,hewastheleastfitted。Withenormouslabourhetookaverygooddegree。Hecarriedoffbesides,thehighestdistinctionsoftheUniversityforEnglishEssays。TheordinarycirclesofCollegelifeknewnothingofhim。NotonceinthewholecourseofhisUniversitycareer,washethebetterforwine。He,didnothunt;henevertalkedofwomen,andnonetalkedofwomeninhispresence。Butnowandthenhewasvisitedbythosegustswhichcometotheascetic,whenalllifeseemedsuddenlycaughtupanddevouredbyaflameburningnightandday,andgoingoutmercifully,heknewnotwhy,likeablowncandle。Howeverunsocialinthepropersenseoftheword,hebynomeanslackedcompanyintheseOxforddays。Heknewmany,bothdonsandundergraduates。Hislongstride,anddeterminedabsenceofdirection,hadseverelytriedallthosewhocouldstomachsoslowapastimeaswalkingforthesakeoftalking。
Thecountryknewhim——thoughheneverknewthecountry——fromAbingdontoBablockHythe。Hisnamestoodhigh,too,attheUnion,wherehemadehismarkduringhisfirstterminadebateona'CensorshipofLiterature'whichheadvocatedwithgloom,pertinacity,andacertainyouthfulbrilliancethatmightwellhavecarriedtheday,hadnotanIrishmangotupandpointedoutthedangerhangingovertheOldTestament。Tothathehadretorted:"Better,sir,itshouldrunariskthanhavenorisktorun。"Fromwhichmomenthewasnotable。
Hestayedupfouryears,andwentdownwithasenseofbewildermentandloss。ThematuredverdictofOxfordonthischildofhers,was"EustaceMiltoun！Ah！Queerbird！Willmakehismark！"
Hehadaboutthistimeaninterviewwithhisfatherwhichconfirmedtheimpressioneachhadformedoftheother。IttookplaceinthelibraryatMonklandCourt,onalateNovemberafternoon。
Thelightofeightcandlesinthinsilvercandlesticks,fouroneithersideofthecarvedstonehearth,illuminedthatroom。Theirgentleradiancepenetratedbutalittlewayintothegreatdarkspacelinedwithbooks,panelledandflooredwithblackoak,wheretheacridfragranceofleatheranddriedroseleavesseemedtodrenchthe,verysoulwiththearomaofthepast。Abovethehugefireplace,withlightfallingononesideofhisshavenface,hungaportrait——
painterunknown——ofthatCardinalCaradocwhosufferedforhisfaithinthesixteenthcentury。Ascetic,crucified,withalittlesmileclingingtothelipsanddeep—seteyes,hepresided,abovethebluefishflamesofalogfire。
Fatherandsonfoundsomedifficultyinbeginning。
Eachofthosetwofeltasthoughhewereinthepresenceofsomeoneelse'sverynearrelation。Theyhad,infact,seenextremelylittleofeachother,andnotseenthatlittlelong。
LordValleysutteredthefirstremark:
"Well,mydearfellow,whatareyougoingtodonow？Ithinkwecanmakecertainofthisseatdownhere,ifyouliketostand。"
Miltounhadanswered:"Thanks,verymuch;Idon'tthinksoatpresent。"
ThroughthethinfumeofhiscigarLordValleyswatchedthatlongfiguresunkdeepinthechairopposite。
"Whynot？"hesaid。"Youcan'tbegintoosoon;unlessyouthinkyououghttogoroundtheworld。"
"BeforeIcanbecomeamanofit？"
LordValleysgavearatherdisconcertedlaugh。
"There'snothinginpoliticsyoucan'tpickupasyougoalong,"hesaid。"Howoldareyou？"
"Twenty—four。"
"Youlookolder。"Afaintline,asofcontemplation,rosebetweenhiseyes。WasitfancythatalittlesmilewashoveringaboutMiltoun'slips？
"I'vegotafoolishtheory,"camefromthoselips,"thatonemustknowtheconditionsfirst。Iwanttogiveatleastfiveyearstothat。"
LordValleysraisedhiseyebrows。"Wasteoftime,"hesaid。"You'dknowmoreattheendofit,ifyouwentintotheHouseatonce。Youtakethemattertooseriously。"
"Nodoubt。"
ForfullyaminuteLordValleysmadenoanswer;hefeltalmostruffled。Waitingtillthesensationhadpassed,hesaid:"Well,mydearfellow,asyouplease。"
Miltoun'sapprenticeshiptotheprofessionofpoliticswasservedinaslumsettlement;onhisfather'sestates;inChambersattheTemple;inexpeditionstoGermany,America,andtheBritishColonies;
inworkatelections;andintwoforlornhopestocaptureaconstituencywhichcouldbetrustednottochangeitsprinciples。Hereadmuch,slowly,butwithconscientioustenacity,poetry,history,andworksonphilosophy,religion,andsocialmatters。
Fiction,andespeciallyforeignfiction,hedidnotcarefor。Withtheutmostdesiretobewideandimpartial,hesuckedinwhatministeredtothewantsofhisnature,rejectingunconsciouslyallthatbyitsunsuitabilityendangeredtheflameofhisprivatespirit。
Whatheread,infact,servedonlytostrengthenthoseprofounderconvictionswhicharosefromhistemperament。Withacontemptofthevulgargewgawsofwealthandrankhecombinedahumblebutintenseandgrowingconvictionofhiscapacityforleadership,ofaspiritualsuperioritytothosewhomhedesiredtobenefit。Therewasnotrace,indeed,ofthecommonPhariseeinMiltoun,hewassimpleanddirect;
buthiseyes,hisgestures,thewholeman,proclaimedthepresenceofsomesecretspringofcertainty,somefundamentalwellintowhichnodisturbingglimmerspenetrated。Hewasnotdevoidofwit,buthewasdevoidofthatkindofwitwhichturnsitseyesinward,andseessomethingofthefunthatliesinbeingwhatyouare。Miltounsawtheworldandallthethingsthereofshapedlikespires——evenwhentheywerecircles。HeseemedtohavenosensethattheUniversewasequallycompoundedofthosetwosymbols,whosepointofreconciliationhadnotyetbeendiscovered。
Suchwashe,then,whentheMemberforhisnativedivisionwasmadeapeer。
Hehadreachedtheageofthirtywithouteverhavingbeeninlove,leadingalifeofalmostsavagepurity,withonesolitarybreakdown。
Womenwereafraidofhim。Andhewasperhapsalittleafraidofwoman。Shewasintheorytoolovelyanddesirable——thehalf—moon。
inasummersky;inpracticetoocloying,ortooharsh。HehadanaffectionforBarbara,hisyoungersister;buttohismother,hisgrandmother,orhiseldersisterAgatha,hehadneverfeltclose。ItwasindeedamusingtoseeLadyValleyswithherfirst—born。Herfinefigure,theblownrosesofherface,hergrey—blueeyeswhichhadaslighttendencytoroll,asthoughamusementjusttouchedwithnaughtinessbubbledbehindthem;werereducedtoaqueer,satiricaldecoruminMiltoun'spresence。Thoughtsandsayingsvergingontheriskywerecharacteristicofherrobustphysique,ofhersoulwhichcouldaffordtoexpressalmostailthatoccurredtoit。Miltounhadnever,notevenasachild,givenherhisconfidence。Sheborehimnoresentment,beingofthatlarge,generousbuildinbodyandmind,rarely——neverinherclass——associatedwiththecapacityforfeelingaggrievedorloweredinanyestimation,evenitsown。Hewas,andalwayshadbeen,anoddboy,andtherewasanendofit！NothinghadperhapssodisconcertedLadyValleysashiswantofbehaviourinregardtowomen。Shefeltitabnormal,justassherecognizedtheessentialifdulyveilednormalityofherhusbandandyoungerson。
Itwasthisfeelingwhichmadeherrealizealmostmorevividlythanshehadtimefor,inthewhirlofpoliticsandfashion,thedangerofhisfriendshipwiththisladytowhomshealludedsodiscreetlyas'Anonyma。'
Purechancehadbeenresponsiblefortheinceptionofthatfriendship。GoingoneDecemberafternoontothefarmhouseofatenant,justkilledbyafallfromhishorse,Miltounhadfoundthewidowinastateofbewilderedgrief,thinlycloakedinthemannerofonewhohadalmostlostthepowertoexpressherfeelings,andquitelostitinpresenceof'thegentry。'Havingassuredthepoorsoulthatsheneedhavenofearabouthertenancy,hewasjustleaving,whenhemet,inthestone—flaggedentrance,aladyinafurcapandjacket,carryinginherarmsalittlecryingboy,bleedingfromacutontheforehead。Takinghimfromherandplacinghimonatableintheparlour,Miltounlookedatthislady,andsawthatshewasextremelygrave,andsoft,andcharming。Heinquiredofherwhetherthemothershouldbetold。
Sheshookherhead。
"Poorthing,notjustnow:let'swashit,andbinditupfirst。"
Togetherthereforetheywashedandboundupthecut。Havingfinished,shelookedatMiltoun,andseemedtosay:"YouwoulddothetellingsomuchbetterthanI"
He,therefore,toldthemotherandwasrewardedbyalittlesmilefromthegravelady。
>Fromthatmeetinghetookawaytheknowledgeofhername,AudreyLeesNoel,andtheremembranceofaface,whosebeauty,underacapofsquirrel'sfur,pursuedhim。Somedayslaterpassingbythevillagegreen,hesawherenteringagardengate。Onthisoccasionhehadaskedherwhethershewouldlikehercottagere—thatched;aninspectionoftheroofhadfollowed;hehadstayedtalkingalongtime。Accustomedtowomen——overthebestofwhom,foralltheirgraceandlackofaffectation,high—castelifehadwrappedthemannerwhichseemstotakeallthingsforgranted——therewasapeculiarcharmforMiltouninthissoft,dark—eyedladywhoevidentlylivedquiteoutoftheworld,andhadsopoignant,andshy,aflavour。
Thusfromachanceseedhadblossomedswiftlyoneofthoserarefriendshipsbetweenlonelypeople,whichcaninshorttimefillgreatspacesoftwolives。
Onedaysheaskedhim:"Youknowaboutme,Isuppose？"Miltounmadeamotionofhishead,signifyingthathedid。Hisinformanthadbeenthevicar。
"Yes,Iamtold,herstoryisasadone——adivorce。"
"Doyoumeanthatshehasbeendivorced,or————"
Forthefractionofasecondthevicarperhapshadhesitated。
"Oh！no——no。Sinnedagainst,Iamsure。Anicewoman,sofarasI
haveseen;thoughI'mafraidnotoneofmycongregation。"
Withthis,Miltoun,inwhomchivalryhadalreadybeenawakened,wascontent。Whensheaskedifheknewherstory,hewouldnotfortheworldhavehadherrakeupwhatwaspainful。Whateverthatstory,shecouldnothavebeentoblame。Shehadbegunalreadytobeshapedbyhisownspirit;hadbecomenotahumanbeingasitwas,butanexpressionofhisaspiration……
OnthethirdeveningafterhispassageofarmswithCourtier,hewasagainatherlittlewhitecottageshelteringwithinitshighgardenwalls。Smotheredinroses,andwithablack—brownthatchoverhangingtheold—fashionedleadedpanesoftheupperwindows,ithadanairofhidingfromtheworld。Behind,asthoughonguard,twopinetreesspreadtheirdarkboughsovertheouthouses,andinanysouth—westwindcouldbeheardspeakinggravelyabouttheweather。Talllilacbushesflankedthegarden,andahugelime—treeintheadjoiningfieldsighedandrustled,oronstilldaysletforththedrowsyhumofcountlesssmallduskybeeswhofrequentedthatgreenhostelry。
Hefoundheralteringadress,sittingoveritinherpeculiardelicatefashion——asifallobjectswhatsoever,dresses,flowers,books,music,requiredfromherthesamesympathy。
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